“I want to help,” she cried. She beamed at her father; her yellow flowered sundress bouncing an eager tempo. Her father looked down and hid a smile as he wiped the sweat from his face. The Texas sun was bright, the air stifling. The oleander and rhododendron drooped after days of unabated heat. Even in the short time they had been outside her Daddy’s white T-shirt was soaked with sweat. He nodded as he handed her the water hose, so big for such a little girl.

“He’s happy,” she thought. “I will water Daddy’s flowers,” she thought proudly.

Struggling to hold the heavy water hose, she wrapped both her tiny hands around it. The dry ground beneath her feet became a puddle, and her sandaled toes wiggled happily. The puddle grew as more flowers on her sundress were thoroughly soaked. But no spot was as big as the smile on her Daddy’s face.

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About Yousei Hime

This is the journal of a poetic rabbit. Within the warren you'll find poetry, short stories, essays, art, book and movie reviews, and other odds and ends. If you happen to meet the fey princess, be courteous. This rabbit did and was forever changed.

Thank you so much. This is a favorite and personal story. I wrote it about a 1 1/2 years before my father passed away. I can’t really claim it as an actual memory; however, I was told this story (about me) so many times that it feels like a memory. I have the photo somewhere and will add it to the post when I find it.

Usagi

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What I’ve Never Forgotten:

“If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. These are the only ways I know it. Is there any other way?”
― Emily Dickinson, Selected Letters